Consequences(198)

While wandering the Galleria dell’ Accademia, the museum housing Michelangelo’s David, Claire lost all track of time. The museum was large with a magnitude of amazing exhibits. The art fascinated her. She lingered at the impressionistic paintings. The greatness of the exhibits caused her to forget about everything except the treasures she was seeing and experiencing firsthand.

When she realized the time, an immediate rush of panic nearly knocked her off her feet. It was 4:30 PM and she was supposed to be back at their suite by 5:00 PM. Her minute recollection of Spanish did little to help her navigate the Italian street signs. She’d walked to the museum, stopping at others on the way. The sidewalk cafés and narrow streets all looked the same. Normally, she had an uncanny sense of direction, but seeing the minutes tick away on her watch made her lose any navigational skills she’d previously possessed. She practically ran the streets filled with people, trying desperately to find her way back to their hotel. At 5:30 PM she reached the Relais Santa Croce. Entering the exquisite lobby, she did her best to regain her composure.

With only twenty-four rooms, the staff excelled at name recognition and attention. The concierge immediately greeted her in broken English, “Good evening, Signora Rawlings, your husband—he awaits you in your suite. May I carry your baggage?”

Claire’s heart sank. She knew Tony’s meetings were nearby. Now her fears were realized. At first, she told the concierge no, thank you. Then she decided perhaps having someone enter the suite with her was a good idea. She handed him the few bags she carried and they proceeded to the Rawlings suite. The concierge assisted her by using her key to unlock their door. The double doors opened to the sitting area, complete with fireplace and windows overlooking the historic center of Florence. Tony wasn’t there.

The concierge placed Mrs. Rawlings’s bags on the sofa and thanked her. She reached into her purse for a tip when Tony appeared from the bedroom. He smiled gallantly at the concierge, thanked him, and handed him a generous tip from his money clip.

Thanking Signor Rawlings, the concierge bowed and left.

Claire’s heart began to pound in her ears as she and Tony stood silently for what seemed like an eternity. She’d used all her resolve maintaining her facade with the concierge. She hadn’t witnessed the other Tony in quite a while. She worked diligently day and night to keep him away. But now she was late, she broke his punctuality rule, and there was no need to explain. She knew her reasons wouldn’t matter. So she stood, tall and resolute. Her eyes weren’t full of fury, they brimmed with tears. He just watched and said nothing. The pupils of his eyes were taking over, yet his expression wasn’t keeping up. Claire waited.

*

Tony watched her. He’d been worried. What if something happened to her? He didn’t even know where to begin to look. When he heard her arrive his immediate feeling was relief, she was okay, but then he saw her, knew she was safe, and relief faded into displeasure. It wasn’t conscious, but he felt it happening, and he didn’t want to give in to it. Her expression looked so frightened, yet she stood so strong and proud.

There was a time he would have enjoyed quelling her resolve; but right now, all he wanted to do was make her feel safe. Finally, without speaking Tony indicated they sit on the sofa. Claire sat and waited. He broke the silence. “Tell me what you saw today and what caused your delay.” He didn’t yell or strike. Claire’s obvious relief led to a sudden loss of control. Tony reached for her and she started to involuntarily tremble. “Claire, it’s all right.” His tone comforted her as he pulled her close.

“Tony, I’m so sorry. I was at the Galleria dell’ Accademia—which was amazing—when I realized the time. I immediately left the museum, but I couldn’t understand the signs and the streets all look the same.” Her words ran together with small sobs between. “I knew the hotel was within walking distance—but I suddenly couldn’t remember the direction.”